


The Exquisite Pain of Relearning To Breathe

by TeamAlphaQ



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Blood, Can I rip your heart out?, Depressing, Happy ending what happy ending?, I'll probably succeed sweetheart I'm good at this, I'll try to rip your heart out, IT'S ME, If you're looking for happiness, Literally I've never written something this mean, M/M, Pain, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sad, Smut, Tears, You're in the wrong place, actually I'm just cruel, but hey, but like, i'm a sadist, so at least there's that, so what did you expect, sorry but not actually sorry, the smut's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 15:19:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10924554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamAlphaQ/pseuds/TeamAlphaQ
Summary: "You keep telling me to breathe and I've tried, believe me, I've tried, but I just can't."





	The Exquisite Pain of Relearning To Breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marith/gifts).



> If you thought, for even a second, that I was nice, well children, you thought wrong. I am currently in a bad mood. My girlfriend just moved to fricken SPAIN, my ribs are broken, and the pain meds aren’t working.  
> So I will share my pain with you.  
> Haha  
> Haha.  
> I wish I could say I felt bad.  
> Enjoy.

Izaya pokes him awake. Idiot flea, doesn’t he realize it’s the middle of the night? That’s what the clock tells him, hardly two, not a time for either of them to be up. But Izaya looks like he’s been up for a while, leading Shizuo to wonder if the man had ever fallen asleep at all.

“I’m bored,” Izaya whispers, breath ghosting by Shizuo’s ear. The man is sprawled out over Shizuo’s chest like some overgrown cat. “Shizu-chan, I’m  _ bored.” _ His voice is plaintive, coaxing, bringing the blond out of sleep.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Shizuo reminds the raven, dragging one tired hand up to press Izaya back down, keeping him close and still. “You’re supposed to be sleeping Izaya.” It’s silly, when has Izaya ever let him sleep when he gets like this? The man is nocturnal.

“But I can’t sleep,” Izaya complains, squirming out from under Shizuo’s hand and nudging at the side of the blond’s face with his nose. Huffing, Shizuo tries to ignore him until he feels Izaya’s lips nibbling at his ear. Very distracting… “Come on, don’t go to sleep without me Shizu-chan, that’s selfish.”

Irritated, Shizuo cracks open his eyes, much to Izaya’s apparent delight. “It’s what normal people do flea,” he informs the raven, who’s looking at him in that way he does when it’s the middle of the night and he can’t sleep. Izaya says he’s not tired but Shizuo knows for a fact that he must be because all his ideas to relieve his boredom are suspiciously single-minded.

He proves this by chasing Shizuo’s lips in a tired kiss. The blond doesn’t respond to it, Izaya pouts, making a soft keening sound in the back of his throat. “Don’t be like that Shizu-chan,” Izaya hisses, mouth moving over Shizuo’s skin regardless. That warm, talented tongue draws groans from the semi-conscious blond’s chest.

“Shitty louse,” Shizuo mutters, wondering for possibly the thousandth time why the hell he doesn’t think to wear a shirt to bed. Not having one makes this far too easy for Izaya to wake his body up whether his mind likes it or not. “What about going to sleep?”

“Be honest Shizu-chan,” Izaya purrs, red eyes gleaming in the darkness. “You aren’t going back to sleep.”

No, probably not. Not with a horny idiotic flea crouched on top of him doing his very best to keep Shizuo from ever sleeping again.  _ Fuck it, I give up.  _ With a soft groan, Shizuo pulls the eager raven down for a proper kiss.

Part of him likes the dark and the fact that it’s the middle of the night. Shizuo’s hands trail under Izaya’s shirt, actually one of the blond’s own. He can tell because it drapes from Izaya’s thin frame, too big, too worn. Admittedly, Shizuo likes it when Izaya wears his shirts, it’s oddly cute, not that he’d ever say it out loud.

The way their tongues move against each other is messy, sloppy and just a little sleepy. Izaya tastes uncharacteristically sweet and Shizuo chases that flavor, roaming his hands over the raven’s cool skin. Like he always is, Izaya’s way to easily excited by the actions, wriggling until he’s properly straddling Shizuo.

“Already hard?” Shizuo teases Izaya, nipping at the man’s exposed collarbone, gentle bites, nothing that bruises. From above him, Izaya huffs in indignation, stifling the other sounds that threaten to escape him as Shizuo ghosts teasing fingers over his chest, paying special attention to the sensitive areas. The man can't help but arch into Shizuo's touch.

“Sh-shut up Shizu-chan,” Izaya pants, breath hot against Shizuo's neck. It’s so easy to turn the tables on Izaya when it comes to these things, it’s too simple. Nevertheless, the blond loves it, the teasing, the games, the soft moans Izaya can’t hold back.

Izaya’s shirt, or rather, Shizuo’s borrowed shirt, ends up on the floor, leaving Izaya to press himself closer to the blond, stealing his excess body heat. Taking further advantage of Izaya’s position, Shizuo lets one of his hands travel down to the waistband of the raven’s boxers, chuckling darkly at the man’s soft whimper of pleasure. 

Except Izaya quite possibly has other ideas that are slightly different from Shizuo's. The blond only figures this out when he feels one of Izaya’s slim hands palm him through his boxers and he discovers that he too is aroused.  _ And I thought I was going to get some sleep tonight… _

Moaning Izaya’s name softly, Shizuo is powerfully aware of the messy smirk on the raven’s face. Sometimes, the man wants nothing more than to get one over on Shizuo, no matter how petty. Even here, in bed together, Izaya can turn it into a contest. Not that Shizuo is complaining, no, he quite likes the feeling of Izaya’s hand sliding over his member, already slick with precum. Unlike Izaya, Shizuo’s not picky about the details.

“What,” Izaya murmurs mockingly, index finger teasing the tip of Shizuo's erection mercilessly. “I thought you were tired Shizu-chan.” A low moan drags from the blond’s mouth and Izaya darts up, swallowing it with his own lips. It’s all Shizuo can do not to crush the raven’s hips in his hands.

Then, as if he wants to prove just how in control he is, Izaya’s head ducks beneath the sheets and Shizuo grips at Izaya’s hair because  _ fuck _ his mouth is very close to the blond’s twitching member and he likes where this is going. Izaya’s tongue is hot as he swipes it over Shizuo through his boxers. “It’s almost like you’re more awake than I am,” Izaya muses, blowing teasingly over Shizuo’s erection. 

“Teasing bastard,” Shizuo growls, eyes rolled back in his head. “You were the one who fucking woke-” He doesn’t finish his sentence because Izaya has taken that moment to finally replace Shizuo’s soaked boxers and his fingers with his hot, wet mouth. Shizuo doesn’t even bother trying to stifle the moan that rumbles from his throat.

Izaya practically swallows him, practice and determination having brought him to this place. Yet another one of those things that Shizuo will never understand about the unfathomable creature that inhabits his life and more often than not, his bedroom. Shizuo resists the urge to thrust into Izaya’s mouth as the raven bobs his head expertly, pushing the blond towards his climax quickly.

Shizuo doesn’t resist it, he just lets Izaya tip him over the edge, licking biting and sucking him till he’s seeing stars. Izaya seems proud of himself when the blond climaxes, swallowing every drop like it’s a hard earned treat. He would have made fun of Izaya for it, but Shizuo can’t quite think straight at the moment.

“Tired already Shizu-chan?” Izaya says, catching Shizuo in another kiss, still far too full of energy. Happily, though, Shizuo is also far from sleepy. 

Easily, the blond flips their positions, pushing Izaya into the bed so he can crouch above the man, golden eyes alive and body already ready for more. “That’s funny,” he growls low, smirking as Izaya squirms under his gaze. “If I recall correctly it was you who was having trouble sleeping.”

“Stupid Shizu-chan,” Izaya complains as the blond lowers his head, trailing hard bites over Izaya’s neck. Shizuo can feel the raven’s breath hitch in his throat, it’s an addicting, intoxicating sensation, only driving him forward. “So cocky.” 

“You love it,” he rumbles back, pressing down on the raven’s needy erection, capturing the gasp Izaya emits with his own lips. Truth is, he doesn’t much mind it when Izaya wakes him up, not if it always ends up like this, very satisfying and with Izaya underneath him mewling in pleasure. Shizuo can’t imagine something he likes better. Nothing on this earth, that’s for damned sure.

“No, I d-don’tt~” Izaya stutterers, breath coming in short panting gasps as Shizuo works Izaya’s boxers off of him and encases the man’s slim hips with his own. Shizuo only chuckles, hands kneading Izaya’s backside, drawing yet more moans from the raven’s lips. “You’re b-being redicul~ahh!~ous.”

“Oh am I?” Pressing a finger against Izaya’s twitching entrance, Shizuo is rewarded with a shuddering curse mixed with his name. Those curses quickly turn to groans of pleasure as Shizuo starts to stretch the raven, gentle yet insistent in his movements. Soon he’s got Izaya arching off the bed, babbling in his ear as he thrusts his fingers in and out of the man’s body, enjoying every sound it produces, every minute shiver.

“I love you, shitty flea,” Shizuo reminds Izaya, lining himself up with the raven.

“I love you too,” Izaya breathes as Shizuo thrusts in.

They never say it quite enough.

Bodies roll together. Izaya’s nails leave scratches down Shizuo’s back as he clings to the blond, moaning shamelessly into his ear. Everything is sweat, heat, closeness. Shizuo doesn’t hold back anything, he never does when it comes to Izaya. It feels so good, it’s almost bordering on painful.

Red eyes, glazed with lust, fix on Shizuo and hold his gaze. Even when their mouths tangle together once more, not really a kiss, more of a desperate muddle. Izaya rocks with Shizuo, crying out every time the blond hits his sweet spot. It’s more of a mad dance than anything else, both of them so caught in it that it carries them towards the edge quickly.

Both tip off that edge simultaneously, Shizuo pulsing inside Izaya, the raven shooting between them, coating both their stomachs with sticky white. Neither can speak for a long moment. For what seems like the first time that night, both are equally exhausted. Then Shizuo comes to enough to pull out before curling around Izaya, holding him close.

Everything is perfect, the world makes sense. Well, as much sense as it can make with Izaya as a part of it. Silly flea always makes things more complicated, not that Shizuo is thinking about that right now with the man tucked under his chin, happy and finally sleepy. He just lets himself drift, content.

Everything is peaceful.

Hell, Shizuo would have said it seemed too good to be true…

And just like that, everything comes crashing down around Shizuo’s ears as he realizes with a jolt he’s dreaming. Heart almost stopping, Shizuo chokes on a breath and pushes Izaya away, managing to say, “You’re not real.” It hurts because he knows it’s true. It hurts worse because he wants nothing more than to grab Izaya, curl around him and never let go.

He’s  _ dreaming _ again, just like he does every night. How could he even pretend for a second that this might be real? It’s all just a dream. Of Izaya, of something that he used to have but will never have again. It’s so incredibly stupid, he hates himself for how weak it makes him feel. Why can’t he just move on? Why can’t he let go?

Izaya’s eyes grow sad as he watches Shizuo. “You weren’t supposed to realize,” he whispers, all traces of tiredness gone. Because this is a dream. Because Izaya’s not really there at all. If it was real, Izaya would be laughing at him. “Shizu-chan,” he begs softly, hand brushing the side of Shizuo’s face. “I’m trying to make this easier for you, why are you acting so stupid about it? Just go to sleep with me.”

“But you’re- You’re not-” It’s a dream but he clings to it, unwilling to let it go like it does every night. Shizuo’s sick of watching this fade away, he just wants to stay but he can’t stay, it’s not real. Izaya’s not real. Their happiness isn’t real, not any of it.

“Why does that matter Shizu-chan, you were happy,” Izaya begs, running fingers through Shizuo’s blond hair. His red eyes are soft, full of life.  _ It’s not fair, why is he doing this to me? _ “You’re only making it hurt more. Stop fighting you beast.”  _ Stop begging, stop pleading, it only makes it worse. _

“I- I can’t,” Shizuo chokes out, lungs constricting, making it difficult to breathe. Everything is ten times worse when Izaya’s sitting next to him, hands stroking his cheeks soothingly. “Please, just stop.” His vision swims. No! He’s not going to cry again, he’s done crying. Why does he always have to hold himself together?

“Shizuo, breathe,” Izaya orders sharply, forcing Shizuo to focus on him. “You’re panicking, you need to calm down.” The raven’s hands aren’t quite substantial anymore as if he’s slowly fading away. “Come on, don’t be an idiot.”

He doesn’t answer, he only battles his rising panic. No, he doesn’t want to just  _ breathe. _ Shizuo’s tired of Izaya demanding he breathe when the man isn’t even real. Izaya crouches before him, steadying Shizuo with his open hands. The skin of his palms is cold.  _ Is that all I can remember of him? _

“You’re not getting enough oxygen to your brain, it’s going to make you even more of an idiot than you already are,” Izaya’s weak attempt at humor falls short, Shizuo can’t even begin to smile. “Come on, I’m just trying to make this easier. Why do you always act like this?” The words, meant to be petulant, come out broken, sad.

Shizuo shakes his head violently as the tears start to collect in the corners of his eyes.  _ “Stop.  _ You, this- it makes it worse. You- you don’t get it.”  Izaya almost looks transparent, the dream is fading, but Shizuo fights to stay asleep, to stay with the raven. He knows he shouldn’t but he can’t bring himself to wake up and lose this, these moments with Izaya.

The raven just sighs. “Deep breaths Shizu-chan. Please, calm down.” Stroking his cheek, Izaya whispers, “Don’t cry, you do that too much. Just breathe.” Locking eyes with the man, Shizuo forces himself to do as he’s told, hating how Izaya keeps fading away, leaving him yet again.

“Why? Why do you always tell me to breathe?” he asks, covering Izaya’s hand with his own. It’s hardly there at all. Izaya might as well be a ghost.

“Because you forget,” Izaya answers, voice faint because he hardly exists at all. “You need to keep relearning to breathe, otherwise, you wouldn’t know how.”

_ Maybe I don’t want to. _

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs to the raven, eyes heavy with grief. The sensation of Izaya’s touch is slipping away, leaving him cold and alone. Hell, he can’t even feel it anymore. It’s just his imagination.

_ “It’s okay.” _

Shizuo jerks awake, his eyes squinting against the tinny glare of his kitchen lights. His head pounds but he doesn’t care. When was the last time he cared about his own well being anyway? The tears though, those he cares about. Those burn as they fall to the old table, damning, ever-present. It doesn’t matter, nothing matters but those moments he can forget his own reality. The dreams that make him believe, if only for a second, that Izaya’s still around.

The bottles littering his kitchen table scatter as he sweeps his arm clumsily over the surface. Several fall to the floor, one shatters. Glass skitters over the tile, but the sound is dim. Distorted. God, why does he even bother with the alcohol? He can’t get drunk, it never helps. It’s all so stupid, he’s sick of this warped life he’s being forced to live. He’s so tired of its endless drag.

Shizuo’s still wearing his clothes from the day before, he’d never bothered to change. Everything’s a disheveled mess, but he can’t be bothered to worry about it. The world is a haze of anger, regret, and pain.  _ Why does he keep telling me to breathe when it hurts? _ All he wants is to feel Izaya’s touch one more time. He’s just sick of this constant cycle he’s being forced to live through.

Why does he bother with this when it only gets worse?

It’s the middle of the night, he doesn’t have to look at the clock to know that. Ever since that day, Shizuo can’t sleep. Maybe it’s because he misses the comforting pressure of Izaya’s body next to his. Maybe it’s because he’s out here, trying to drink himself into a stupor.

Or maybe it’s because he never just turns over and tries to go back to sleep.

The path he stumbles down, through his living room and out his door is so familiar. The drafty lobby never changes, no matter the time or the day. The hinges on the double doors squeak, someone should probably fix that. Everything is exactly the same as it always is. The ache in his heart included. The pain in his eyes too. 

_ Why do I bother? Why can’t I let go? _

Does he do it every night? Is it every other? Shizuo can’t keep track, it all blurs together after a certain point. The alcohol doesn’t help. What’s one day more after all when it everything feels the same and it never gets any easier? It’s only the dreams he remembers, the only time his life feels okay.

But it’s not, everything is shit. Everything he used to rely on is meaningless or broken. Sometimes both. More importantly, Shizuo’s broken, and he’s running out of the glue he uses to put himself back together.

Outside is dark, cold, unfeeling. He’s so sick of this, is this some sort of cruel joke? Shizuo hates the universe for this, hates himself for all the pain he goes through. It’s self-inflicted, he knows it is but doesn’t do anything to change. What had Izaya said? It’ll be okay? Why would he say something like that when it’s all so fucked up? Why do his dreams have to feel more real than reality does?

Why can’t he just stay there and never come back to this world at all?

His mind feels a little clearer now, it always does when he’s out at this time of night. The air blows the fog away for a second and he can see just how miserable he’s become. He’s pathetic, it’s depressing how low he’s gotten.  _ Why did you have to leave Izaya? Is this funny to you? _ The pain is just below the surface, Shizuo’s tired of holding it down. Why bother? It doesn’t help.

_ If you had just stayed I’d be fine, _ Shizuo thinks, selfishly.  _ If you had just held on a moment longer… _ Nothing, nothing would have changed. It would still hurt, it would still leave Shizuo feeling exhausted.

He turns into the familiar space, eyes still fixed blankly on the horizon. Like his door, the gate creaks. It’s not ominous, in fact, it’s almost comforting. The blond hasn’t slept in days, he doesn’t remember how to without dreaming about Izaya. Part of him wants to let go, the rest of him knows it’s impossible.  _ It hurt the first time Izaya, but seeing it every night, seeing you every night, I can’t take this anymore. _

“Why are you doing this to me?” Shizuo mutters brokenly as he slumps to the black, cool marble. His head falls back, bumping the top of the headstone. It’s as close to comfortable as he can get. “Come on Izaya, I’m trying but you’re making it impossible.”

Izaya’s gravestone is stupid, basically just an ostentatious monument, made of mottled stone that matches his old coat. The only thing it’s good for is taking up space and serving as a place for Shizuo to sit on these painfully sleepless nights. It’s dumb and gaudy and it shouldn’t be in use so soon. Izaya shouldn’t have left him so soon.

He shouldn’t have died at all.

It’s been six months since it happened, Shizuo should have moved on by now, right? He shouldn’t be drinking so heavily in an attempt to forget the pain, he shouldn’t be dreaming of the man every night like a twisted obsession. It’s pure misery and he can’t escape it. Nothing makes it better. Not people, not the alcohol, not sleep, not time, not anything. All the world does is remind him of what he’s lost.

With fumbling fingers, he lights up. The ground around the grave is already littered with cigarette butts. Proof of his nightly visits, hard evidence that he can’t move on. Other headstones have flowers, Izaya’s only offering is Shizuo’s tears and the heavy smell of nicotine-laced smoke that thickens the air like water. 

The world is so silent.

Shizuo remembers Izaya’s last breaths, taken in his arms as he begged the raven not to die. Why did the man have to get shot? Why did he have to leave Shizuo so soon? Didn’t they deserve happiness just like anyone else? Why had it been ripped away so brutally? There are a million questions, Shizuo can’t answer a single one of them.

The raven couldn’t answer them either, he died before he could.

Izaya’s last words still ring in Shizuo’s ears, a constant mantra. They should have been ‘I love you’, that’s how it’s supposed to work, right? That’s all he’d wanted to hear, just one last time. But they hadn’t been, Izaya had instead whispered until his last for Shizuo to  _ breathe _ just breathe. The blond had been panicking, unable to keep himself grounded and Izaya had used his last moments to tell him to calm down.

Now look at him, a mess no matter what he does. Izaya couldn’t change that, Shizuo sure as hell doesn’t know how to either. 

“Don’t you ever get tired to reteaching me to breathe?” Shizuo asks bitterly, eyes downcast. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just let me go?” The graveyard stands silent, it never answers him back. It all pisses him off but he can’t do anything. He just wants it to stop hurting.

“You keep telling me to breathe and I’ve tried,” Shizuo wildly continues, searching desperately for something  _ anything _ to make this easier.  _ Can you hear me? Are you even listening? _ “Believe me,” his voice cracks. “I’ve  _ tried, _ but I just can’t.”

The grass beneath his feet whispers in the breeze but it’s not an answer, it’s just mockery. Why does he do this to himself? Why does he torture himself like this every time he can’t sleep? Why can’t he just forget? Why won’t it stop  _ hurting? _

“Fuck you Izaya,” Shizuo mutters on a half-laugh that sounds as dead as he feels. “Even dead you’re still a bastard. Did you ever even think about me when you went and fucking died?” 

He wants to slip back into his dreams, he wants to pretend like this isn’t real.

But it is, life never stops moving and it never stops cutting into him, causing pain.

“I loved you,” he says to the empty night air. “Hell, I still love you. I can’t stop dreaming about you, I can’t stop thinking about you. Fuck, Izaya it hurts. You left me behind, you didn’t even say goodbye properly. You got  _ shot.  _ I held you while you fucking bled out, why would you do that to me? Why?”

_ Is this what I’ve been reduced to? Asking dead people why they died? _

“I’m a fucking mess…”

And it’s true. He is. Running out of glue, running out of excuses. Running out of time before he goes crazy. All he wants is to sleep, he just wants this to be over.

“Hey!” Shizuo only dimly registers the shout, angry, incendiary, maybe even frightened. The man who gets in his face is grubby, desperate. Anyone can see that. “Empty your pockets. Give me everything you have of value!”  _ What a cliched line, right out of the textbook this one. _

Shizuo hardly stirs. Just sucks on his cigarette and stares coolly at the frantic man. There’s no point, why bother anymore. He could kill the man, but he doesn’t. Why should he? “I don’t have anything,” he says calmly, eyes dim and clouded.

When the man suddenly draws a gun, Shizuo doesn’t even flinch. Even when it’s cocked. Even when it’s pointed at Shizuo. “Shut up!” The way he waves the piece around proves how little he’s actually used it. “I said give me your money!” 

_ This is stupid, why is he even bothering? _

_ Why am I even bothering? _

“I said I don’t have anything,” Shizuo growls in subdued irritation, moving to swat the man away like an inconvenient fly. Because that’s all he is, and really he’s got bigger problems than being mugged. The man isn’t even worth his time.

But apparently, that doesn’t matter.

It happens in a second. The gun goes off, the bullet hits home. Shizuo hears it strike the headstone at his back. Pain blossoms from his chest as the would-be thief panics, running the other way at the sight of blood staining Shizuo’s shirt. The blond doesn’t even drop his cigarette, doesn’t even blink.

It hurts, his chest feels like it’s being forcefully compressed inwards. Ironically, he can’t breathe at all. Shizuo feels the world around him fading away all too quickly but he doesn’t try to stop it. There’s a ringing in his ears that keeps getting louder, his vision is already fading. The blood keeps pulsing from the wound, making a general mess of things. Izaya’s grave is turning red.

Well, he did just get shot. The bullet had hit his heart. From a shaking gun, it was a shot in a million but Shizuo doesn’t care, he just slowly slumps over, his body going limp. He tries to draw breath but he can’t, it just sends further pain rocketing through him. Funny, he doesn’t really mind.

“Looks like I can’t breathe after all Izaya,” Shizuo murmurs as his eyes close and blood flows freely from him. But he doesn’t care, it’s almost a relief. Life was hard, this is easier. Almost like going to sleep.

And when he wakes up, maybe Izaya will be there for once…

No one’s there to see him lose consciousness, watch him slip away.

No one except the starless sky and Izaya’s black, marble headstone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> There is no good ending. That’s it. Honestly, I don’t even feel bad.  
> Y’all should expect this by now.  
> Seriously though, I kept laughing while writing this. I’m probably dead inside.


End file.
